


The Apprentice

by sinlet



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-07
Updated: 2012-05-07
Packaged: 2017-11-05 00:12:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinlet/pseuds/sinlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Altaïr and his apprentice execute a high  profile target together, but something feels wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Apprentice

In front of Desmond’s eyes – or in his mind, if you want to be precise – the digital reconstruction of Acre unfolded.

With mild surprise, he wondered why he found himself back in 119X. The progress with Ezio went so well, there was no reason to dig for more information in a long forgotten past. Or maybe it was just a glitch?

He tried to think back what they discussed during their last meeting, but he couldn’t remember anything that happened shortly before he was put back into the Animus. A part of him didn’t care. He was aware that the bleeding effect was slowly eating away his sanity, so he wasn’t surprised about such things anymore.

Desmond decided to just go with it and pulled his hood deeper into his face while he made his way past the crowd. The assassin just did what he was used to, nothing could go wrong with that.

After a while of walking, he was almost sure of his location and decided to scan the area for familiar faces while making his way to the closest bureau.

He froze at the sight of a very familiar face. Altaïr arose from a bench in front of him and looked him right in the eye.

Desmond just stared at him, mouth opened in surprise. This couldn’t be, HE was Altaïr. These must be the memories of someone else, but how was this possible?

Altaïr approached him slowly and subtly motioned him to follow. As he brushed past the stunned man, the master of assassin’s whispered with slight amusement.

“Why so surprised, my friend? After all this time working together, it should be easier for you to spot me.”

What the hell was going on…? Shaun? Lucy? Uhh... help.

No response. He was on his own.

Desmond knew he had to act now, otherwise he would seem suspicious. So decided to go along with it and see what he could discover. It couldn’t hurt. Most likely.

He turned around to follow Altaïr, but the other assassin had already vanished. Instinctively he looked up and saw a shadow jumping from one rooftop to the other.

As ‘the apprentice’ joined his master, they carefully sneaked through the rich district on their way to the target.

Slowly, Desmond adapted to the situation. The synchronization process went fairly well, but he wished that he had had more time to get used to the new body or to find out what he looked like. It was unusual not to be the hero, unusual to see his ancestor. The situation felt weird, but not uncomfortable.

The chosen one wanted nothing more than confront his past self with who he really was, but after a moment of consideration, he decided against it. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, Altaïr could die from shock or god knows what would happen. Without any support from outside, acting on one’s own was too risky anyway.

After a while of walking, memories that were not his own, flickered through his mind. It gave the assassin the opportunity to find out a bit more about the person who these memories belonged to.

It turned out, that he was not a apprentice, but THE apprentice. The best of all the recruits. He was chosen for this task. Chosen to work closely together with and being trained personally by Altaïr.

Suddenly, his head was flooded with foreign thoughts and his heart was taken over by foreign emotions. Somehow, more than just the memories synched.

Apparently, the apprentice’s believe in the cause and passion for stealth killing weren’t his only motivation. He wanted to be close to his master since he had first seen him. That is why the apprentice trained hard every day and worked up his way to the top. It was then clear to Desmond that his host’s feelings for Altaïr were more than just admiration.

Desmond tried his best to ignore all of this because they were coming closer and closer to their target. He could feel it and so could Altaïr.

***

The execution went smoothly, maybe a bit too smoothly. The amount of Templars, that greeted them on the way back, was unusually high. This was a trap. Someone must have tipped them off.

But time was short, they could figure out the details later. For now they could only run and hope to outdistance their persecutors as fast as possible.

It was a lot harder than it sounded. They almost drowned in the bulk of their pursuers, so Altaïr gave his apprentice the sign to split up. Desmond complied.

The majority of their enemies followed Altaïr. After all, they wanted him dead most.

But the other assassin still had to deal with a considerable amount of Templars.

Due to the lack of a proper synchronization process, Desmond wasn’t as skilled with the apprentice’s body as with Altaïr’s. As a result of that, he almost stumbled a few times and the limited sense of orientation almost made him run into blind alley.

He finally managed to flee out of sight, but as he climbed on the rooftop, panic overcame him. He knew that they would find him again. They were just too many, fighting them in this condition was not an option and where was Alt-?

Suddenly, a hand covered his mouth and strong arms dragged him backwards. The next thing he knew, was that he was laying on his back in one of little hut made out of wood and covered with heavy pieces of cloth. And Altaïr was right on top of him, covering his apprentice’s mouth with his left hand, pressing him flat onto the ground, so they wouldn’t get spotted.

The body above him was tense and alert, ready to fight if he had to. But the touch and the closeness also felt god. Oh god, Did he really just think that? Or was it HIM? Or both? By now their memories and emotions had merged, so he couldn’t tell apart the foreign patterns from his own anymore.

The guards scanned he area andeventually went past the hiding spot, but this was not within the view of Demond’s perception. All he could focus on was Altaïr’s body pressed to his own. The sight. The smell. The heat. Everything.

Despite the imminent danger of the situation he was getting aroused.

The other’s face was so close to his, he could feel the breath against his ear. This situation was almost like…

It was then, when he noticed his erection and he was fairly sure that the other could feel it too.

What now? There was no excuse for this. The smaller man averted his eyes and blushed.

Finally the hand on his mouth was retrieved and the other assassin shifted to get up. But instead of standing up completely, he remained in a crouching position. For stealth reasons. Probably.

Maybe he didn’t notice after all. Desmond sighted and allowed himself to look up again while he also braced himself on his elbows to shift into a more comfortable position.

Before he had the chance to lever his body up completely, he was pushed to the ground again.

“!?”

His eyes met the ones of his master who was leering down on him. The hand that pushed him down a moment ago was now resting on his chest, holding in position.

“…what?”

Altaïr only grinned in response and increased the pressure on the other’s chest.

The master assassin’s next move was even more unpredictable. Desmond yelped in surprised as a hand sneaked between his legs and caressed his erection through his pants.

Before the chosen one could plan his next move, he lost control over the situation. That was if he ever had any.

Within seconds, Altaïr freed the other’s member and had the man under him moaning for his touch. If it wasn’t the expertly applied strokes, it was the feeling of partially gloved callous fingers around his cock that made him loose it.

As Desmond threw his head back in pleasure, his hood fell back and his flushed face was completely exposed to his ancestor.

Altaïr looked down on his prey as if he was going to devour him and his strokes became slow and teasing. The other bucked his hips upwards in protest. But instead of giving him what he wanted, Altaïr just took more. The master assassin leant down to suck on the other assassin’s neck and kissed his way upwards to his prey’s lips.

The kiss was deep and rough, just as he imagined. The fact that he actually imagined that scenario didn’t occur to Desmond as odd anymore. He felt so overtaken that he could do nothing else than to close his eyes and let the other claim his mouth and the rest of his body.

Suddenly, the warmth and the pleasure were gone. Was he going to desynchronize? Please not now.

Desmond opened his eyes again only to see the other wrapping his lips around his cock.

At first the licks were slow and teasing, but that already made the smaller man moan and claw into his robes.

The pleasure increased even more as Altaïr took him deeper into his mouth and started to suck for earnest. Desmond was treated a bit harder than he could take, it was driving him crazy. He was so close, but he didn’t want it to end.

He bit his lip as he was trying to hold back so hard. It couldn’t be over so soon, but there was no use, it was just so good.

With a soft scream he came hard into Altaïr’s mouth.

As soon as the stars before his eyes vanished, he saw the master assassin above him in his crouching position again. Only this time, his ancestor was a lot closer and it looked like he was admiring his work.

Altaïr let a finger run over the oversensitive area of Desmond’s cock, which made him whine softly and shudder in response.

After a few moments of silence, Altaïr seemed to be satisfied and got up with a swift movement.

The guards were long gone and there was a lot more to do.

“Let’s go, our next target is waiting for us.” He said as if nothing happened. Then he vanished again past the huge cloth.

As the master assassin was looking down on his apprentice, Desmond could see a glow in his eyes, that showed not only passion for killing and the cause, but also for him.

***

Desmond awoke from the Animus with a scream. HOLYFUCKINGSHITWHATJUSTHAPPENED. He was a sweaty panting mess. All eyes were on him.

“Uh… did you guys just see what I saw?” This was mostly a rhetoric question, he already knew the answer.

Lucy failed hard to hide a grin. "At first we were really worried..."

Rebecca not even trying. She finished Lucy's sentence for her "... but by the time we gained control over the animus back, we agreed, that you can handle situation on your own. Besides, think of all that precious information we gained from this, right Shaun?"

Shaun casually adjusted his slightly fogged glasses, his expression was unreadable, for there was the reflection of light covering his eyes.

“And you just WATCHED and didn’t even think of helping me.”

Lucy couldn’t hold it anymore and burst of laughter, "It would have been very impolite to interrupt in such a situation."

Rebecca joined and almost fell from her chair "Yeah, and it kinda looked like you didn't really want our help."

Shaun sat very stiffly on his chair and pretended to look at the screen in front of him.

“…you guys are great friends, you know that?”


End file.
